Bad Bakery
by Destiel In The Impala
Summary: 'If I can help one poor soul make a decent pie I can die happy.'


**I found this in my folder and thought I'd post it. It's only a short one shot...**

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'Uh, hey,' Dean greeted as he entered the bakery. His eyes raked over the man behind the counter; just his type.

'Hello, how may I help you?'

Nice voice. Again, something he valued. But he was currently there for pie so he pushed any thoughts on the baker to the back of his mind.

'You do pie?'

The man chuckled lightly and gestured to the cabinet full of pastry. 'We have a large selection. What is your preference?'

Dean pondered his answer for a moment before announcing, 'I'm gonna go for an apple today.'

'Good choice.'

'It's a pretty average choice, I guess. I mean, it's safe.'

'Ah, just trying it out, I see.'

'Just moved here. If the bakery ain't good, I might as well just not unpack and head off to another state.'

The baker laughed again as he picked out the apple pie from the display. 'Would you like the whole pie or just one slice?'

Dean frowned at him. 'Dude, do you seriously have to ask?'

A warm smile crossed the man's lips. Attractive… yet not pie. 'Focus on the pie, Dean,' he whispered to himself.

'Hm?'

'Oh, nothing.' Dean tapped his foot as he waited for the pie to be packed up.

'That's three dollars.'

Dean fished in his pocket for the bills. 'Awesome.'

'Thank you very much, sir. I hope you enjoy.'

Dean nodded and smiled as he left the small shop. 'Nice eyes,' he commented to himself.

When he reached his newly purchased apartment, he put the pie down on the kitchen counter and forgot about it until later that evening. His expectations ran high as his fork sunk into the crumbling pastry.

'Good start…'

He inspected the fork until he couldn't wait any longer, jamming it into his mouth and chewing on the pastry. Almost instantly, he spat it out, choking.

'Holy fuck!'

The pastry was dry, clogging in his throat as it gradually slid down. The bitter, sticky apple sauce soon followed leaving a ghastly aftertaste in his mouth. His eyes were open in shock. He had lived by a motto for almost his entire life; there was no such thing as a bad pie. His motto had yet to be challenged until Castiel's Cakes' pie.

'Jesus Christ,' he gasped, staring down the pie. He hastily binned it and had his mind set on returning to the bakery the next day but not to make a purchase, to set something right.

'Your pie's _awful_,' he opened with. The man who must have been Castiel opened his eyes wide with slight hurt.

'Oh,' was all he replied with.

'Yeah, _oh_, I nearly choked to death tasting that piece of crap.'

'I'll try to right it, I am so-'

'Sorry just don't cut it,' Dean said, shaking his head.

Dean's attitude seemed to set something off in Castiel and his face became stony. 'Okay then. If you think you're a top pastry chef, why don't you come back here and make the goddamn pie?!'

Dean was taken aback by the man's angry response but quickly snapped out a reply. 'Okay then.'

The other man frowned, mouth gaping slightly. 'You… what?'

'Fine. I'll make the pie.'

'Uh… You… Huh?' Castiel floundered.

'I'll make the fucking pie.' Dean was mentally kicking himself but refused to back down now that he'd started.

Castiel looked at Dean liked he'd gone insane – which he might have done – what was he thinking? He smiled falsely at Castiel and made his way around the counter, picking up an apron from the bunch that were hanging on the door jamb. Castiel followed, it wasn't like he had anyone to serve. It was no wonder the place was dead, only poor, unsuspecting newbies like Dean would be found within ten feet of the place.

'Hi, I'm Dean and I make perfect pies,' Dean stated, marching into the kitchen.

Castiel rolled his eyes. 'How modest of you.'

'I'm helping you out here, man. Now hand over the chef hat thing.' Dean held out his hand, wiggling his fingers. Castiel looked offended.

'No!'

'Don't be a child, Cas, give it.'

Castiel's irritated pout remained for a few more seconds before he sighed and reluctantly pulled it off his head.

'_Thank_ you. Now, where's your flour?'

Another eye roll. 'Flour's everywhere, Dean, this is a bakery.'

'I don't see any flour packets in front of me.'

'You're incredibly bossy for someone who shouldn't even be behind the counter of my establishment.'

'Yeah, your _obviously failing_ establishment.'

'Rude,' Castiel breathed before handing a large packet of flour to Dean. Dean ordered Castiel around for the duration of the time he made the pie. Not once did the bell for assistance at the front of the store ring.

'There. A perfect pie.'

Castiel stared dubiously at the pastry. It looked damn good but he hated to admit it.

'Perfect… Hm. If your creations are so perfect, why did you feel the need to come here and buy a pie anyway?' Castiel asked, poking at the pie with his fork, spearing the seemingly perfect pastry.

'It's not like I'm gonna be making a pie for myself every day. 'Sides, there's an art to making pie, man. If someone can't make one, they need help.'

Castiel frowned up at Dean. 'Not everyone can bake, Dean.'

'Okay, for one, you _definitely_ should be able to bake, you own a freaking bakery, and two, if I can help one poor soul make a decent pie I can die happy.'

'You're crazy,' Cas replied dismissively, finally dipping the fork in and taking a bite. Shit, it was good. 'Dammit.'

'Huh?' Dean suddenly looked incredibly concerned.

'I had at least a shred of hope that this was going to taste vile, or at least a little worse than mine. But… damn.'

A huge grin broke out on Dean's face.

'I could kiss you. I could seriously kiss you,' Cas said as he went in for another bite.

'Okay then.'

Was Dean serious? 'Are you serious?'

'Kiss me,' he reiterated with a lecherous wink. Cas stared at him wide eyed. He didn't know how all this had happened, why Dean was even still here. Also, he was rude and had criticised everything Castiel had done… No, Castiel was sure none of that could be construed as flirting even if his people skills were a little rusty. Unless this was Elementary school, which it wasn't, insulting someone definitely wasn't going to make you want them.

Castiel must have been quiet for a beat too long because suddenly Dean rolled his eyes and surged forward, flour coated hands framing his face and pulling him, crashing their lips together. All Castiel could do was make a surprised noise in the back of his throat before he wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and kissed back.


End file.
